


Sunflowers in my Bed at Night

by sakuranomi808



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom!Sam, Cheesy, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Massage, Romance, top!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:40:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28086339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakuranomi808/pseuds/sakuranomi808
Summary: Written for SPN kink meme prompt: Sam/Dean, Romance -- I just wanna see Dean trying to be romantic with Sam. He could be trying to seduce Sam for the first time or he could be trying to make an effort after years together.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 258





	Sunflowers in my Bed at Night

It had been a year, Sam realized, since the world had turned itself right-side-up again. 

At first, he and Dean still went on the occasional hunt when something interesting caught their attention, but the stretches of time between those excursions got longer and longer until Sam realized that for the most part, they were now what hunters called ‘retired’. 

It was pretty weird, honestly. 

Their entire lives had been darkened by a shadow of loss, of pain and anguish, and of an inevitable destruction that they were somehow responsible for stopping.

But not anymore. 

Now there was just this: Dean was in the kitchen tending to a pot of something delicious as he glanced at a recipe on his phone and then turned to open the refrigerator. Sam peered over the counter from where he was sitting at the dining table reading a book. Dean was… chopping parsley? When had Dean started cooking, anyway, let alone garnishing?

“Hey, do you need any help in there?” Sam called. 

“Nope,” Dean grinned. “Dinner will be ready in five.” 

Sam couldn’t help smiling as well. After everything they’d been through, Dean deserved to be happy; they both did. 

Admittedly, he’d wondered if their relationship would be different after they’d settled into this routine that could only be described as ‘domestic’. When they were younger, when things first started between them, there was the thrill of trying not to get caught -- screwing around right under Dad’s nose when he was too oblivious to notice. Then, as the years went by it was always on-again and off-again with them, so many times that Sam had lost count. 

But they always, always found their way back to each other. 

The best times were admittedly the most dramatic ones, when the two of them would come crashing together like stars in a supernova -- frantic, desperate, clinging to one another like the world would end if they let go. It wasn’t ever like that anymore, and while Sam loved the comfort and security of living every day with the love of his life by his side, he kind of missed all of that passion. 

“Here we go,” Dean said, startling Sam from his thoughts. He set their plates down on the table and turned back to the kitchen, returning a moment later with a bottle of wine and two glasses. 

Sam inhaled deeply, his stomach rumbling at the wonderful smell of his favorite -- chicken marsala. “What’s the occasion?” he asked as he took a bite. 

“No occasion,” Dean shrugged. “Just felt like cooking.”

Sam couldn’t help moaning softly at the delicious flavors fluttering across his taste buds. “Holy cow. You should cook more often, Dean. This is amazing.” 

“You are,” Dean said as he turned his attention to pouring the wine. 

“What?” Sam asked absently. 

“Amazing,” said Dean. “You’re amazing. I don’t think I tell you that enough.” 

“Okay. Thanks?” Sam narrowed his eyes a bit, watching as his brother poured two generous glasses of wine and slid one across the table. “Dean, what is happening right now?”

“What’ya mean?” 

“Christo,” Sam said softly, clearing his throat loudly to try and cover up the word.

“Sam, I’m not possessed,” Dean sighed. “I just- I’m trying to be romantic here. Cut me some slack.” 

Sam grinned and took a long drink of wine. “Romantic,” he repeated, amused. “Aw. Did you buy me flowers, too?”

“As a matter of fact,” Dean’s eyes brightened. “I did not. But I did…” he trailed off as he rose to his feet and disappeared down the hallway for a moment. “... steal these for you from a field on the way back from the supermarket,” he said triumphantly, setting down a bunch of sunflowers on the table between them. 

Sam huffed out a laugh and rolled his eyes, but he had to admit, he appreciated the gesture. He remembered as much as Dean probably did that one time when they were kids -- they’d snuck into a pumpkin patch late at night and took a huge one back to the house to carve it. Sam couldn’t resist grabbing a few sunflowers as well, momentarily fascinated by the endless field of beautiful green and yellow. There was just something about how big and stupidly happy those flowers were that made him smile then -- and now, too. 

“Thanks, Dean,” Sam said earnestly. “It means a lot that you remembered.” 

Dean grinned but didn’t say anything else as they both ate in comfortable silence for a few moments. Sam almost choked on the bite of food in his mouth when Dean slid his hand across the table to rest gently on his. But he knew that Dean was trying, and he really did appreciate the attempt at romance or whatever this was. Sam carefully turned his hand over and smiled across the table at his brother when Dean threaded their fingers together. 

After dinner, they somewhat predictably ended up in the bedroom where Dean offered to give Sam a massage. Sam hesitated for just a moment before slowly starting to shed his clothes, catching Dean’s eye as he undid the button on his jeans and dragged the zipper down slowly. Maybe he was just being a big giant girl (or maybe he drank too much wine with dinner), but all of this attention from Dean was making his head swim. 

Dean caught his lip between his teeth and honest-to-God growled when Sam kicked his jeans off. “Fuck, Sammy,” Dean breathed, closing the distance between them and smashing their mouths together. They kissed open-mouthed and needy for a few blissful moments, tongues twisting together, hands exploring eagerly. “You’re so fucking hot, you know that? You drive me crazy and you don’t even know it.” 

Sam chuckled, heat coloring his cheeks. Despite all these years together -- despite not being able to tell the difference between being with Dean and just being -- Dean’s words still sent a rush of blood straight down between Sam’s legs. He tilted his head a bit, gaze sweeping slowly down the length of his brother’s body. “Then why’re you still wearing so many clothes?” he teased.

It was completely silent between them again as Dean kicked off his boots and peeled away layer after layer until he was only wearing his boxer-briefs. Dean was nothing short of a Greek god himself, miles of creamy freckled skin over whipcord lean muscle, his hard cock straining against the tight cotton clinging to his hips. He was still as breathtaking as he’d been to Sam all those years ago, when Sam was just an awkward teenager and Dean was everything he wanted, and everything he wanted to be. 

Dean led Sam down onto the bed, guiding him to spread out on his stomach, head cradled in his folded arms. Sam was already achingly hard too, but this slow burn, this flirtation and teasing, was something they’d never done before and he was nearly dizzy with anticipation. The bed shifted a bit under Dean’s weight as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the nape of Sam’s neck, his lips warm and soft against Sam’s heated skin. 

Sam startled at the sudden sensation of chilly liquid between his shoulder-blades. He glanced over his shoulder to find Dean carefully tipping a small bottle of something mildly strawberry scented onto his back. The thought of Dean actually going to some middle-of-nowhere sex shop to buy massage oil made Sam smile even more. He resettled on the mattress and let his eyes fall shut, enjoying the sensation of Dean’s hands working over his skin, kneading away the tension in his muscles. 

Dean’s hands were awesome; they were one of Sam’s favorite things about him -- as strong and skilled as they were gentle and loving. After working out all the knots in Sam’s shoulders and back, Dean moved lower on the bed and began to smooth his hands over Sam’s thighs, giving them the same lavish attention. By the time he worked his way down to Sam’s calves, every inch of Sam’s body was positively thrumming with arousal. 

Glancing over his shoulder again, Sam caught his brother’s gaze and gave a barely-there nod, wordlessly giving him permission to take what was indisputably his. Biting back a moan, Sam lifted his hips and let Dean slip his briefs down his legs and off. The friction of his bare cock against the sheets was a minor relief, but Sam needed so much more. He hurriedly turned over and moaned brokenly when Dean curled his fist tight around Sam’s erection and gave it a good stroke from root to tip, circling his slick palm up and around the head. 

“Dean, I- I need…” Sam huffed in frustration, stubbornly not wanting to beg for it. 

“It’s okay, Sam,” Dean cut in gently. “I gotcha.” 

Sam drew his knees up closer to his body and reached blindly for his brother, palming over Dean’s cock, still trapped behind a layer of cotton now sticky with his arousal. 

“Jesus. Why are these still on?” Sam grumbled impatiently.

Dean chuckled and pulled away just long enough to kick off his own underwear and then shifted over to sit on his haunches between Sam’s spread thighs. Catching Sam’s eye, Dean curled his fist around his own thick cock, lashes fluttering high on his cheekbones as he squeezed and stroked and moaned contentedly at his own touch.

Sam closed his eyes again, putting his trust entirely in his brother as Dean drizzled more of the oil over his fingers and slid them gently over Sam’s balls and then further back, pressing the pads of his fingertips against his puckered hole. 

They had done this countless times: sometimes rushed and frantic, racing together for the finish line; sometimes slow and steady, like there was no one else in the world but the two of them. But no matter what, Dean always made sure that Sam was ready, took the time to be sure that Sam didn’t get hurt. This time was no different. Dean slid one finger in first, gently twisting and dragging against Sam’s sweet spot on the way out. He slid back in with two, tipping the bottle again to let more of the oil drip over where they were connected -- where the thin skin around Sam’s opening was stretched around Dean’s thick fingers. 

Sam whimpered and reached down to palm over his own dick, gently squeezing just under the head for a bit of relief as Dean carefully twisted and spread his fingers. By the time Dean had worked his way up to three fingers, Sam was trembling all over, a thin sheen of sweat prickling over his entire body. He sighed contentedly as Dean shifted over to blanket his body with his own, resting his weight on one forearm pressed to the pillow beside Sam’s head. 

Dean dropped his forehead to rest against Sam’s and they both moaned quietly through the first thrust. Sam could feel every inch of his brother’s pulsing length as he sunk in slowly, stretching and filling him in a way that only Dean could. Once they were finally joined completely, hips pressed flush together, Dean reached up to sweep Sam’s sweat-damp hair away from his face, letting his palm linger at his brother’s cheek. 

“Sammy,” Dean murmured as he pulled back just enough to meet his brother’s eyes. “I-” he frowned slightly, lowering his eyes for a moment, a soft sigh escaping his lips. For all of the progress he’d made these last few years, Dean was still the antithesis of the ‘chick flick moment’, but it didn’t matter, not really. In every one of his actions, if not his words, he told Sam every second of every day how much he loved him -- would kill for him, die for him, destroy the fucking universe for him if it meant that they could be together. 

“I know, Dean. Me too,” Sam murmured, leaning up to press their lips together again. 

Dean moaned into it, immediately pushing for more, dipping his tongue hungrily into Sam’s mouth. They instinctively began to move together, bodies rocking against one another, moving in tandem with practiced ease. Dean finally broke away with a gasp for breath, panting hard as he increased the speed of his thrusts, pulling nearly all the way out on every downstroke. As tempting as it was, Sam kept his hands firmly curled around Dean’s biceps, loving the way that the muscle there rippled and flexed as he continued to thrust into Sam over and over again. 

Without warning, Dean pushed himself upright and hooked his hands behind Sam’s knees, leaning forward and bending Sam’s body nearly in half. Sam cried out sharply as the shift in angle sent the blunt head of Dean’s cock driving down into his sweet spot on every thrust. His body stuttered and jerked as the first spurt of his release shot hot and wet between them. The waves of pleasure came again and again, blooming under his skin, racing up and down his spine like sparks of electricity. Dean bit back a groan and stilled his movements for a second, pushing in impossibly deeper as he unloaded into Sam’s clenched channel over and over again. 

Dean continued to work them both through it, thrusting until the sensations became too much for both of them. He dropped down to rest his head in the crook of Sam’s shoulder as the rest of his body gently came down to blanket Sam’s again. Sam exhaled shakily and stretched his legs out, wincing as Dean’s softening flesh slipped out of him and he eventually shifted over to lie down on top of the covers beside Sam. 

It was quiet now -- so quiet that Sam could hear Dean’s ragged breaths evening out, the steady cadence of his heart thumping behind his ribs. Sam rolled onto his side and propped himself up on one elbow, sweeping his gaze up to meet his brother’s eyes, gold-flecked hazel shining bright. 

“It was the flowers, right?” Dean grinned, looking quite pleased with himself. 

Sam choked back a laugh and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, Dean. Definitely the flowers.”


End file.
